


Sidetracked

by Gallicenae



Series: Misc Fic Gifts [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Chess is just a game of innuendo, Innuendo, M/M, Mabari Puppies, Memories of the Blight, cullrian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 02:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8309869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallicenae/pseuds/Gallicenae
Summary: Dorian gets to know the Commander over a game of chess, Cullen likes dogs, and there's a party.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mistysinkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistysinkat/gifts).



Cullen sat across from Dorian in their usual spot near the gardens, both staring at the board. Games had a tendency to be dropped and picked back up again weeks later. Rarely did the two men have down time between Cullen’s military duties and Dorian’s venturing with the Inquisitor. Today was a much needed change of pace. 

“You know Commander, it doesn’t do to dwell so long on a move that your opponent begins to believe you’re completely out of options.”

Cullen moved his steepled fingers from his lips. “You’re as cocky as always, Dorian.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Dorian smirked as he uncrossed his legs, leaning forward to get a better view of the Commander’s upcoming play. 

Dorian had no trouble sending a piece in to attack in response. He had played this game countless times before in Tevinter, but for all his bravado, he knew he wasn’t the best player. His particular strategy favored mind games, having opponents believe he knew exactly what they were going to do next and derailing them with side conversations and the occasional flirtatious remark. Cullen always proved to be a challenge to get off task with his staunch focus. 

“If you don’t mind my curiosity, how often do you miss your home, Commander?”

“Mmm. You could say I miss it all the time, but there are more important matters to think about, so it's rarely at the forefront of my mind.”

“So it’s duty before family then.” 

Cullen adjusted his position, clearly uncomfortable with the question. “These days, if we don’t do our duty, we may not have any family left.” His hand hesitated over a piece before he changed his mind and moved another forward.

“Quite.” Dorian studied the board, taking his time to think of a piece he might sacrifice to pull confusion from the Commander. “But when you do think about home, what is it you truly miss? What one thing do you wish could come with you?”

“Trooper.” It came out in a heartbeat, followed by a nostalgic half-grin. 

“I’m sorry?”

“He was this beast of a mabari we had. A farmer’s hound had just weaned a whole litter, and my father came home one day with Trooper under his arm.” Cullen chuckled, “He had these lanky legs attached to paws I could swear were bigger than his head.”

Dorian sat back and listened, pleased he’d apparently struck the right chord in conversation. While winning was always a favored pastime, learning more about the Commander’s life before he had become trapped by duty was worth getting sidetracked for. 

Cullen had one of those rare, far-off looks as he thought back to his childhood. “He’d follow us everywhere, and once he was big enough, we’d all take turns riding him around the house. We’d get in so much trouble for all the things we’d break.” He glanced at the board and haphazardly moved a piece. “Branson and I would pretend we were templars and Trooper was an apostate. We always ended up toppled over on the ground, each with a paw on our chests and wet faces from his tongue.”

“Sounds like quite a friend.”

“He was. He most certainly was.” Cullen’s eyes returned to the board, taking in more than just the available moves.

Dorian followed his gaze, taking a brief moment to determine how much Cullen was actively invested in the current game. He pushed a pawn forward. “He’s no longer with us, I take it.”

“No.” Cullen’s lips thinned into a hard line, one Dorian had seen before. The Commander wore it whenever he had to deliver news of their fallen soldiers. “I was at Kinloch Hold when I received the letter from my sister. It was during the Blight, and Honleath had been overrun with darkspawn. Most of my family made it to safety, but my parents and Trooper...” Cullen’s eyes darkened, pained by the fact he couldn’t have helped even if he had wanted to. “He was an old hound by then, but he managed to take down a darkspawn that had chased after Rosalie. Saved her life.”

Dorian didn’t press him for more, he knew enough to infer what had probably happened next. Either the mabari had been set upon by more darkspawn or he had swallowed their foul blood. Both scenarios led to a grim outcome. 

“The Hero of Ferelden eventually cleared out the darkspawn and saved the people who were left. They helped rebuild the town after that.”

“Have you been back since?”

“No.”

One of the Inquisition’s scouts came rushing in from the main hall carrying a missive for the Commander. Cullen cleared his throat and reached for the parchment, quickly scanning its contents. “Apologies Dorian, but my attentions are needed elsewhere at the moment. Perhaps we could finish this another time?”

“Most certainly, but you may need to up your game for the next round. No sense in you letting me win, is there?”

Cullen stood and waved to Dorian as he departed for the war room, exchanging heated words with the scout regarding whatever had been in the letter. Dorian leaned back in his chair, fingers to his lips in thought. 

 

\---

 

Varric had been the one to suggest a gift exchange. He’d said they could all use a break from the doom and gloom of the world. Josie would make use of their connections and organize a feast day for all of Skyhold. 

Dorian had missed the taste of finery while wintering in the mountains. The main hall was alight with fires and the colors of fine cloth, with the smell of rare spirits lifting from every table. Solas was off to the side with Leliana, indulging in a helping of frilly cakes. Sera was attempting to string Bull’s horns for some insane Qunari bow, which amused his Chargers to no end. Everyone seemed to have forgotten what was outside, if only for the briefest of moments. But as Dorian looked around, he noticed there was one person in particular who paid no attention to the frivolity of the event. 

The Commander was sifting through papers at Varric’s usual table, thinking it was enough that he was in the main hall if not a part of the festivities.

“How very typical.”

Cullen didn’t even turn around to greet Dorian, but rather nodded his head and said, “How very unlike you to expect anything different.”

“I suppose it works in my favor for once.” And Dorian lifted Cullen’s gift over the Commander’s head and promptly dropped it into the man’s lap.

Before Cullen could fully express his annoyance at being interrupted, a wet nose poked its way into his hand. The Commander pulled the cloth away and stared wide-eyed at the pup in his lap. 

“Don’t thank me all at once, Commander.”

“Uh-um, this is.” The mabari pup yipped at Cullen. “I mean,” he ruffled the dog’s ears, and smiled. “thank you.”


End file.
